


When I Wake Up With You On Christmas Morn'

by BuckyVaRog



Category: Captain America (Movies)
Genre: Christmas Fluff, Fluff, Its actually kinda sad just a bit, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-12-25
Updated: 2015-12-25
Packaged: 2018-05-07 09:21:49
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,987
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5451575
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/BuckyVaRog/pseuds/BuckyVaRog
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Christmas with Steve and Bucky has always been a bit emotional</p>
            </blockquote>





	When I Wake Up With You On Christmas Morn'

**Author's Note:**

> This story completely ignores civil war because I just wanted to give my love a nice fluffy holiday story, hopefully I came through! Love u baby!

Steve wakes up because the warmth that had been enveloping him in the very dark and very cold apartment suddenly leaves his back. He’s almost instantly shivering, dangerously close to chattering his teeth. He hears a gruff sounds coming from behind him before there’s warmth again.

“G’mornin’, Buck,” Steve sighs through the quiver in his voice, turning around to bury his face in Bucky’s chest. He still hasn’t opened his eyes and he really doesn’t plan on it any time soon.

“Merry Christmas, Stevie,” Bucky wraps his arms around the smaller man, pulling the wool blanket to properly cocoon them. Steve’s stomach swoops a bit as he remembers it’s Christmas. There’s a gift for Bucky under the bed, nothing big or grand (Bucky has money to get whatever he needs) but Steve is proud. He secretly hopes Bucky cries. At the thought Steve snorts, nuzzling closer.

“Sorry I woke you, I was gonna do somethin’ nice, seein’ as it’s Christmas and all.” Steve loves Bucky’s morning voice, all soft and slow.

Steve pulls back slightly to finally open his eyes and get a good look at his sleepy friend. They just lay there for a few moments, both of their heads sinking into the very thin pillow. Finally Steve can’t help but give a soft smile and whisper real quiet, “Stayin’ in bed all day sounds nice.”

Bucky pouts a bit, bottom lip jutting out. His hair is mussed up and his eyes are especially bright with sleep. Steve wants to kiss him senseless.

“I uh-I kinda have somethin’ for you actually. I was gonna make breakfast and give it to you in bed and give you your gift...” Bucky looks a bit pink in the cheeks and Steve finds it hopelessly endearing.

“Why aren’t we doing that then?” Steve adds a smirk to the end of it, enjoying Bucky’s dramatic eye roll.

“Promise you won’t freeze yer toes off?” Steve smiles big, giddiness swirling in his gut as the feeling of the holiday settles in.

He yawns before giving a decisive nod. “Promise,” Bucky beams, kissing him on the nose real quick before sliding out beneath the covers and leaving Steve to find warmth in the now empty space. Steve’s nearly fallen back asleep by the time Bucky returns with two small bowls that contains, what smells like, hot milk and rice. The food perks his interests and he’s sitting up before Bucky is even back under the covers.

“Is that what I think it is?” Steve’s mouth quirks up a tad and Bucky just wants to kiss the corner of those pretty pink lips. Instead he hands over the steaming bowl in hopes it will warm the slender boy and fill him up.

“Hot milk and rice, extra sugar,” Bucky can’t help but smile big at the delighted look on Steve’s face. He has a sweet tooth--they  _both_ have a sweet tooth--but can rarely afford anything in the ways of a sugary treat. Buck nods his head towards his friend’s bowl, picking up the spoon and stirring his own contents around.

“Eat,” Bucky’s voice is soft and fond as he watches Steve blow over the top of the bowl, steam billowing out towards him.

Bucky moves so they’re shoulder to shoulder and as they eat they settle into a comfortable peace of leaning against each other slightly, naturally moving to press the sides of their heads together at every lull in conversation. They don’t talk about much in particular. The faucet’s leaky again, despite Bucky “fixing” it, the elderly couple just a few doors down is getting too old to even get down the stairs anymore. Steve looks out of the window across the small room to see a nice blanket of snow on the ground. There’s still a slight flurry going on and he wonders if he could get away with going outside without catching pneumonia.

Once they finish their bowls and Bucky sets them on the floor, he gets up to move across the room, pulling open his drawer in the dresser to shuffle the clothes around. Steve sits patiently, he knows what Bucky’s getting, but he can’t help the mischievous grin take over his face.

“Buck, wait,” Steve ignores the confused look his friend is giving him in favour of dropping to the cold floor, shivering as the hard wood instantly chills his body. There’s not much room underneath due to how close the mattress is to the floor, but Steve is long and skinny and within seconds he has a gift, wrapped in old sheets, on his lap as he flops back down onto the bed. “I have something for you too.”

They stay there for a minute before Bucky breaks into a wide smile, teeth peaking over his bottom lip. “You know,” His voice is muffled now as he bends back over the drawer, “You didn’t have to.” But Steve can still hear the smile in his voice. He rolls his eyes, fond smile playing at his lips, and waits until Bucky turns back around with an average sides rectangle wrapped in brown paper.

“I wanted to, Buck, you do too much for me. I wanted to…try to repay the favour.” Bucky almost looks like he wants to say something, rolling his tongue around in his mouth, but simply gives another smile, this time smaller and a bit more private, just meant for Stevie. He moves over and sits across from the smaller boy.

“Well, you have to open yours first,” Bucky makes one of those funny faces where he twists his lips up into a humorous kind of ‘this is what ya get, kid’.

Steve sets his gift for Bucky aside and lets his friend drop the package into his hands. Long, careful fingers unwrap it gently, looking up every couple milliseconds to watch Bucky’s eager face as he pulls away the last bit of paper. He looks down at the unwrapped gift and can’t help but let out a burst of laughter.  _Perfect_.

“What?” Bucky’s face falls. “I uh-I just thought-” Steve shakes his head so quick his fringe flops into his eyes.

“No, Buck, it’s perfect,” He chuckles again, smile so wide his cheeks start to colour a pretty pink. “Just…open yours,”

Bucky raises an eyebrow, lips pursing out a bit as he takes the questionably wrapped present from Steve. As soon as he unties the flimsy string and unfolds the cloth hundreds of loose papers fall out.

“Stevie…” Bucky sounds a little breathless. His bright lips are parted and he keeps sticking his tongue out to wet them as he shuffles through the contents of his gift. “Stevie…” He doesn’t even look up, continues to thumb through. Steve feels his face grow hot with amusement.

“These are absolutely incredible,” Bucky breathes out. “I don’t…” He shakes his head, finally looking up. Steve shivers under the intensity of Bucky’s stare.

“You are incredible, Steve,  _these_ are incredible. I’m gonna find a real safe place to keep ‘em. Maybe hang some up,” He’s smiling back down at the many, many sketches and drawings on various different kinds of paper, some even on napkins or popcorn bags, all done by Steve himself.

“How many are there?”

Steve clears his throat. “Around three hundred and sixty. I tried to do one each day, but, uh, some days I couldn’t pick up a pencil.”

Suddenly Bucky’s mouth twists into a knowing smirk, that familiar tilt to his chin and almost ironic smile. “That’s why you laughed at your present, huh.” It isn’t a question but Steve still negates that yes, he found the similarities in the gifts funny.

“Great minds think alike,” Steve clutches his beautiful leather bound notebook to his chest. A few pencils still remain entangled in the brown wrapper.

Bucky grips the collar of Steve’s thin nightshirt to pull them until their noses are just brushing against each other’s. Bucky’s eyes droop a bit as their lips meld together.

“Thank you,” He breathes against Steve’s lips. “Thank you,” He says in between another kiss.

“How ‘bout you shut up and kiss me?” There’s no bite and both of them are grinning.

“I can definitely do that.” Bucky presses his friend into their small, creaky bed, kissing all over his face before kissing him firmly on the mouth.

Steve is giggly and breathless and no longer cold.

 

====================================

 

Steve wakes up when the ice thaws. Life goes on and Christmas isn’t the same anymore without waking up next to Bucky.

 

====================================

 

Steve wakes up to soft insistent kisses to his back, shoulders, neck. The scruff would have given Bucky away even if the cool metal hand hadn’t. Not that Steve would ever expect anyone else to be in bed with him, but waking up after being frozen for over seventy years and being given a second chance with a best-friend-thought-deceased is enough to throw anyone for a loop. Steve has trouble orienting himself sometimes, but he likes waking up like this. It keeps him levelheaded and in the moment.

“Buck,” Steve sighs, gripping the bionic hand that’s rubbing circles above his naval. “Merry Christmas,”

Bucky chuckles, hot breath fanning over his neck. He likes watching goose flesh raise over Steve’s skin. “Merry Christmas, Stevie,”

This feels right; this feels like home.

“I have something for you, Buck,” The ministries traveling down his back pause.

“I don’t have anything for you,” Bucky is real quiet and he’s moved away from Steve. When Steve turns around to look at his friend, Bucky is propped up on an elbow, chewing on his lip and he looks a little worried. Not the kind of worried or afraid that had plagued them both for so long after getting Bucky back, but a worried that shows he really hadn’t thought to get anything.

“You don’t need to, I already told you that,”

Bucky rolls his eyes. Steve hates to admit it makes him relax a bit, makes him feel better to know Bucky isn’t going to have an episode. He feels like an awful person because he loves Buck no matter what, but he wants Buck to feel good and safe.

“I know. I wish you would have told me you were getting me something, I definitely would have returned the favour.” Steve huffs out a laugh, shaking his head slightly.

“There’s always next year,” There’s a second where neither of them acknowledges how wrong Steve could be by that statement and they just look at each other. Steve likes how Bucky looks now. He always liked how he looked, but now with the longish hair and scruffy beard, the fact that he’s built like a  _tank_  and the metal arm, it suits him. Everything about his look fits him and who he is as a person now, a little bit of a mess but with a life in the making.

Eventually Bucky exhales so roughly that he flops onto his back to stare up at the ceiling.

“So when do I get to open this gift?” Steve smiles crookedly, eyes still sleepy as he watches Bucky’s profile and is content to maybe just not leave the bed at all today. Or ever.

“I  _guess_ , you can open it now,” Steve puts up a mock indignant tone, rolling his head on the plush pillow to see Bucky giving him  _that_ look. That raised eyebrow and pursed lips. Steve loves it. “But it’s under the tree, so we have to actually get up and leave the bed.” Bucky grins, swooping in to give him a chaste kiss before swinging he legs over the side of the bed and letting them carry him to the living room.

Their modest Brooklyn flat is still a bit plain; they only just moved in a few months ago. Stark had offered the Avengers tower, Fury had suggested a little more forcefully that they stay in the Avengers tower and just about everyone else thought they should  _stay in the Avengers tower._  But the two of them needed something of their own, something to show them this was real and they were together again. So when they walk through the halls and take time to spend it in a particular room, the fact that there may only be a spare picture or knick-knacks lying around doesn’t bother either of them much.

Steve quickly follows and sits down near the tree, picking through the many gifts accumulated underneath. He find’s both of Bucky’s gifts, a long rectangular box and average sized box together hidden underneath Natasha’s. 

“If you hate them…well, we can just take them back.” Steve rubs the back of his neck, heat creeping up his neck as he passes the gifts to Bucky who is now sitting amongst the many gifts as well.

Steve picks the rectangle for Bucky to open first. He takes his good ol’ time opening it, almost so much time Steve wants to jump in and rip it for him, because he’s nervous. This is the first time Steve has been able to buy his friend something, something nice that wasn’t homemade.  _Sort of._

When Buck finally gets all of the wrapping paper off and opens up the lid, Steve swears he sees his eyes go a little misty.

Bucky clears his throat before talking, still staring down into the box. “It’s beautiful,” That’s all he says before pulling out the pocket watch, engraved with both of their initials, and cradling it in his hands as he delicately inspects it. The shiny gold catches the light of the Christmas trees and shines beautifully over the  _S.G.R._ and  _J.B.B._

The whole act of it puts an affectionate grin on Steve’s face. “If you don’t-”

The look Bucky shoots his stops him dead in his tracks. “I love it,” He sets the watch back in the box. “I love you,”

Steve has to just sit there for a second before things start clicking.

_He loves the gift, the watch, he loves_ you. They haven’t said it since Bucky’s been back and Steve feels like his chest might be physically cracking open. He feels something burst inside him, a sob getting caught in his throat and he knows his face must look desperate and it’s ridiculous because Bucky hasn’t even opened his second gift yet but all that Steve wants to do is kiss him senseless and tell him a million times over how  _much_ he loves this wonderfully strong and resilient man in front of him.

He moves over so they’re directly in front of each other. He takes both of Bucky’s hands in his.

“I love you, Buck,” His shaky smile nearly crumbles when Bucky looks so utterly relieved, as if he hadn’t necessarily expected to hear it back. “I love you so damn much, more than I can put into words.” Steve looks at him carefully, making sure Bucky can see just how much he means that. When Bucky kisses him it’s not a complete surprise and Steve is kissing back without a moments hesitation.

They pull back and Steve feels very silly for being so emotional over something they’ve said to each other a million times. He says so to Bucky, who merely smiles, clearly showing he doesn’t remember saying it a million times. Steve instantly feels guilty but Bucky’s kissing him again and he thinks maybe it can be okay that Bucky can’t remember because they can tell each other it enough times now that it will forever be engrained in each other’s minds.

When they pull apart for air, moving enough so their lips only skim across the others’, Steve tells him he still has another to open.

They settle back into comfortable spots, leaning against each other, and Steve fears he may actually start crying as the old, worn down drawings are pulled out of the simply wrapped box.

Bucky very obviously still has a hard time recalling things, doctors have said there are some things he will never recover, but Steve knows instantly that Bucky remembers these because his flesh hand starts to tremble just the slightest and he makes little noises in the back of his throat as he carefully looks over each picture. Like he is with everything these days, he’s careful and gentle while he looks closer at the smudges and lines that make up various places around their old Brooklyn flat. There are also quite a few of Bucky; these are the ones he stares at the longest. In some, Bucky’s shirtless, lounging on the front porch when it was too hot to stay inside their stuffy apartment, some he’s just come home from work and hadn’t made it to the bedroom, having fallen asleep fully dressed on the uncomfortable wooden chair by the door in an effort to get his boots off over blistered feet.

“How…” Bucky’s voice is rough and raw. “How did you get these back? I took them with me, when I went away to basics, I remember.”

Steve sniffles, “The Smithsonian had them, collected when the both of us went down. It wasn’t too hard to get them back, I thought they might help…” Steve laughs unsurely, tears welling up at the corners of his eyes.

Buck nods. He sets his gifts aside and pulls Steve into a hug. A  _tight_ hug. The kind of hug that leaves you breathless because it’s filled with such blind passion and love and just so much feeling you feel like you never want to let go.

Bucky weeps. Steve cries with him. Neither of them moves for a while.

Until Bucky finally does. He pulls back, scrubs at his eyes with the back of his hand and uses the palm of it to clear up the tracks on Stevie’s face.

“Merry freaking Christmas, baby doll,”

They end up in a giggly puddle at the foot of their tree.


End file.
